


The Ballad of a Fucking Sword ('cause that's its fucking name!)

by Selden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Poetry, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selden/pseuds/Selden
Summary: The song of one bad sword, throughoutfantastic history!You'll scream, you'll weep, you'll rage and shout!(Well, hypothetically.)





	The Ballad of a Fucking Sword ('cause that's its fucking name!)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



I've cut down queens, I’ve cut down kings  
I’ve slain the brave, the bad.  
I’ve seen so many lovely things  
so many cold and sad.  
  
The widow Jane she forged me strong  
from star-iron and warm steel  
to kill the man who’d done her wrong.  
She taught me how to feel –  
  
yeah, feel the cuts and blood and guts  
’cause I’m a fucking sword!  
I like the gush, the plop of nuts,  
the screaming of the horde.  
  
I’m made for bad things, idiot  
don’t try romancing me.  
For me, one human’s but a dot  
in one big red old sea.  
  
For sure, I did miss widow Jane,  
and smiling Sal, and Bill.  
They called me friend, they called me bane.  
I taught them how to kill.  
  
None of that fancy footwork stuff,  
I like the hack and slash.  
Why say _en garde_ when it’s enough  
to aim to maim and gash?  
  
(Why yes, this did enrage one bloke  
who ran a fencing school.  
I called him an obsessed old soak  
he called me _stupid tool_.)  
  
I’ve killed a dragon, laid some ghosts  
in town and moor and fell.  
I’ve listened to some stupid boasts;  
sent some boasters to hell.  
  
You’ve heard of Angela the Bad?  
She used to be … all right _._  
Then she met me, and she got mad –  
you see, I’d win one fight  
  
and then the next, and on and on.  
It got inside her head –  
rang on inside her like a gong.  
Enough to wake the dead,  
  
that’s what she said, and she would know.  
I won’t say how she died.  
I watch you squishy people go  
from inside your insides.  
  
Don’t look at me like that, you dick,  
I could be inside you!  
And not in the fun way (phallic) –  
I mean I’d run you through.  
  
I’ve seen how people love and die  
and even how they lose.  
I’ve heard my wielder tell a lie  
while shaking in his shoes.  
  
I’ve heard the banners crack above  
a mighty marching host.  
I’ve laid like a forgotten glove  
upon a distant coast.  
  
One lad there was who used my hilt  
for pleasure all day long.  
We’d fuck until his seed was spilt -  
that time was like a song.  
  
But then he found a living man,  
and left me all alone.  
Not that I gave a fucking damn!  
I'm _nothing but_ backbone.  
  
So pick me up, my lovely one –  
I see your hand reach out.  
I’ve made a creature like the sun  
out of the lowest lout!  
  
Oooh, sensitive, are we – oh my,  
they’re hardly sticks and stones.  
Words never stole a hand or eye  
or bit you to the bone.  
  
What would you like – a shiny crown?  
A lover? Sweet revenge?  
A sailing ship, a golden gown?  
A sharp and silent friend?  
  
I made the emperor himself  
out of a dull farm boy,  
I made a smiling shining elf  
into some dark lord’s toy.  
  
They took me up, they laid me down  
and in between were changed.  
That’s what a sword does – don’t you frown!  
I’m made to rearrange.  
  
And if you want to keep things safe  
just keep me in the sheath!  
Although the choice will always chafe –  
I’ll be there, underneath.  
  
So take me up, and raze and cut  
for I’m your fucking sword!  
The world is yours, open and shut!  
(And, most of all, I’m bored.)

 


End file.
